The swaying of a small boat was starting to lose its battle of steadiness against the violent waves of the ocean. Jagged breathing filled the air, followed by pained groans. A single tall figure sat in the boat, barely being able to do that.
The pale man was sweating buckets, his mint green hair with blue tips damp from the rain falling on him, heavily.
His orange eyes fought against staying open, but the man fought against it being closed. His hands were over his abdomen. Blood seeped through his fingers, trickling down to his wrist. "Shit." He muttered, pained.
The man moved slowly, trying to not irritate the wound. He grabbed the cloak from the back of the boat, placing it on himself.
He was cold, shivering from the heavy breeze and cold rain. The man's eyes could see an island up ahead, and he started to thank whatever higher being was looking at him.
